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Everything in the drawing is dutifully rendered, from the lay of the lawn to the texture of her knit sweater. It’s ridiculous.
“You did these?” Trevor asks, his voice awash with emotion. “Like you seriously did these? Yourself?”
Maybe not the most sophisticated statement, but basically what we are all thinking.
She scoffs through her nose. “Yeah, not really high-fashion, if you know what I mean.”
“No, I don’t know what you mean!” Trevor says. “These look like… Like, amazing. Why are you even still in school?”
She sighs dejectedly. “Sometimes I ask myself the same question.”
I glance at Diego. He shrugs one shoulder as though he hasn’t seen these.
“These are from last year, honestly,” she says softly. “They don’t let me do these kinds of drawings here. Too academic. Notoutréenough, I guess.”
“I don’t know what that means,” Trevor says.
“I don’t know what that means either,” she admits.
“Well, we definitely aren’t going to be able to do anything like that,” Zeke shrugs.
She reveals another page, littered with male torsos in twisting, strong poses. She sighs softly.
“Oh, actually, we could do that,” I smile.
She gasps and glances at me over her shoulder, her cheeks reddening sweetly. I guess I wasn’t expecting her to blush.
“Was I not supposed to say that?” I smirk. “Haven’t you seen Diego…”
“She sure has,” he grins, wiggling his eyebrows.
“Ope!” she gasps again, thoroughly embarrassed.
But something about her demeanor sets us off. We kind of back up around her, forming a semicircle. This is a strange situation. She really has seen Diego naked. She did just show us a page full of naked torsos.
“It’s just that in art school, we don’t usually talk about…” she explains quickly.
We all look at Diego for confirmation. “Oh, yeah,” he nods. “They barely acknowledged that I exist as a human being. I am totally objectified.”
“It’s not like that!” she objects.
He scowls, but I know he is not really mad. “Come on, Lindy. You know better than that. How many days have you spent staring at my dick? And yesterday was the first time you ever even talked to me, right?”
“Well, I just thought… I mean I didn’t want to…”
“You mean you didn’t want to talk to me like I’m a person?” he continues slowly, savoring her discomfort.
She plants her fingertips on her hips and stomps her little heel in frustration. “Now you know it’s not anything like that. Why are you picking on me? There are rules, you know. I mean nobody is supposed to… like, embarrass you?”
He shakes his head and stretches his arms toward the ceiling, revealing his sleek, tanned abdomen. I watch her eyes track the motion. She can’t help herself. It’s not her fault.
“Why would I be embarrassed?” he counters.
“Well, me neither!” she insists.
“So, should we do this?” Trevor asks, walking to the pedestal in the middle of the room and taking his shirt off along the way.
He drops it on the back of the table and pauses to stretch his hamstrings for a second. Lindy sputters and turns around helplessly. When Diego sees her discomfort, he walks backward toward Trevor, unbuttoning his trousers as he goes.
